Her scarred smile
by x-iAmCannibal
Summary: Drabble. Michelle's POV. Not really much of a plot, just a very short Carchelle one-shot!


How can I do anything but love her? For twenty years, she has been my one constant. Twenty years, I've had her support, given her my support. We stand tall for eachother. We grieve together. Grief has been a big part of our lives and maybe that's what brought us together. She watched me grieve for my first love, she held me, and in a cruel twist of fate, I held her when she grieved for her first love. It's so tragic, they both succumbed to the same fate. It wasn't the car that killed them, it was the drink.

I've had my fair share of love rats, and they've hurt me, but I know I haven't suffered the way she has. I should have been there when it happened, when everything was taken from her. I wish someone, anyone would have given me the phonecall and then I could have been there. I know her better than anyone, I must do. I'm the only one who understands the extent of all her suffering. I've been there, for most of it. I don't know how she does it, she amazes me. She just carries on, she puts on that mask and she's got the world at her feet. I am in complete awe or her sometimes, most times…All times. Her heart has been smashed to pieces over and over, yet she's now shatterproof.

I love the way she fools with that smile. I love how I'm the only one who notices that it doesn't quite reach her eyes. I can still see a lifetime of pain behind them that I long to love away. There's something about her smile, even a genuine one will seem forced. Her scarred smile. It's still beautiful. She's beautiful. She really is flawless. Every inch of her. Twenty years, did I mention that, before? That's how long she's been there, by my side. My best friend. I'd go as far as to say she is my soulmate. Because as I know her better than anyone else, she knows me. She knows when something is wrong and she knows how to put it right.

Even now, as she purrs into the side of my neck, wraps her gentle arm across my waist, she knows it's exactly what I want, what I need. The smell of her is intoxicating. It's sweet, slightly, musky and uniquely her. For someone so strong, she is so delicate. I feel as though if I pull her tight to me, I coud break her. I know that I'm the only one left with the power to tear her apart, and that's a terrifying thought. Like I could even contemplate destroying my reason for waking up in the morning. It's amazing, that I'm the one who's worthy of her trust, that I mean that much to her. And I need her to see that I couldn't ever take that for granted. But that's why I show her everyday that she'd my everything. And I trust her. With my life. More than I ever have and will trust anyone else. Just her.

It'll only ever be her now and maybe it always has been just her, just us. We both failed to realise, failed to see it until now.

Now, in this moment, this second. This is where I want to stay. This is how it should be. Her skin warm and soft against mine. Her touch is deft, supple and again, she knows me so well, better than anyone. My heart rate increases dramatically, and I wonder how she does it. It's this effect she has on me. When she's around me, it's as though my heart could beat right out of my chest, my skin goosebumps and I've turned into a lovesick schoolgirl once more. It's hard to believe that I have the same effect on her. That I could do this to Carla Connor.

She's tired, her soft strokes along my arm have become idle, but she finds the energy to pull her body closer. We're so close, not just the physical contact of her warm skin against mine in our embrace. I envelope her, shading her, protecting her, and that's all I ever will do. From anyone who thinks they have the right to contribute to any negative feeling she might experience. We both know she's suffered enough, more than anyone should suffer.

We're so connected, I've never felt as connected to anyone in my lifetime. It's almost as though she was made on this earth for me. Or I was made for her. She's close enough for me to feel her warm breath against my face, and for a brief moment, I feel her lips up against mine in a sweet, gentle kiss. My breath still catches as if it's the first time, her taste one that I will always crave.

How can I do anything but love her?


End file.
